Tag Archives: good-byes

Book Reveiw: WORLDS HERE AND THERE by Paul Snider and Donna Kushner

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World Here and There: An Activity Bood for International Transition

Written by Paul Snider and Donna Kushner Designed by Josephine Loh

Published: 2025

Summary

WORLDS HERE AND THERE is an activity book to help individuals and families during their transition. It provides activities and questions for processing – like naming the losses and recalling the memories. It can be used for re-entry to the passport country, for long home assignments, or for a brand new move. It is divided into several parts. One gives you a guide map on how to use the book – with a family, with a team, or individually. Another is the activities for the “Here” and “There” parts of the transition. There is a reflection section that takes the previous processing a little deeper. And ends with some suggestions for what to do next, along with resources that can be helpful as well.

Recommendation

I received an advanced reader copy (ARC) in digital form, so I cannot comment on the physical quality of the workbook. But seeing that it is spiralbound, which to me means that pages won’t fall out, is a HUGE positive. I know many spiral-bound books can be drab, but not this one. The pages are colorful and quite pleasant to look at. The design allowed white space for the participants to write or draw in the book. What I really liked about this book is that a family would only need to order ONE book for the family. This cuts the cost which is always a plus. Also, only having to pack one book is super helpful with limited space. And this is a book you would want to take with you to the next place.

I would recommend it for families preparing for a transition, but also for anyone who facilitates transition debriefs for families or groups.

Book Review: STAYING WELL ACTIVITY BOOK by Claire Holmes

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Staying Well Activity Book: Practical Activities to Support Children Aged 7-12 Whose Best Friend is Leaving + Facilitator’s Guide

by Claire Holmes

Genre: Processing Guide for Ages 7-12

Published: 2025

Summary:

Claire Holmes’s new activity book is for younger TCKs or any child who has said goodbye to their best friend. This activity book is the third one on transition that she has written. The first two were from her Moving On Series, Arriving Well and Leaving Well. The structure of this book is similar to the other two books but has activities geared towards the Stayer. Claire uses each letter from the word “TRUST” to help the child “grow [their] TRUST and cope in the best way” (p. 6).

Recommendations:

Claire is a school counselor at an international school in Singapore, where her knowledge of transition and trauma gives her wisdom in writing this activity workbook. Like the other two books, her facilitator’s guide is written like a well-thought-out teacher plan. The instructions are clear, with example questions for discussion, illustrations of each activity page, and alternative ideas to use with the activity. I recommend this to schools, those working with TCKs regularly, and any family who wants to help their child process their best friend leaving. 

*Please note that I earn from qualifying purchases as an Amazon Associate.

Transition Rollercoaster – Round 2

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This article was first published on July 31, 2020, titled Transition Roller Coaster. I have reworked and updated it below.

Transitions. It is a rocky time for globally mobile families. You are up and then down. Tossed and turned. Some people like the thrill of rollercoasters. Some people do not.

Transitioning with all the unknowns, chaos, and goodbyes feels like a never-ending rollercoaster ride. And just as people have very different opinions about rollercoasters, each person in a globally mobile family will have different reactions during this time of transition.

So, what can you, as the parent or caregiver, do?

  1. Be aware. Be aware of your own feelings and responses to those feelings. Observe how your body is responding to all the emotions you may be having. Is there tension in your shoulders? Headaches? Also, be aware that others may be acting out of response to anxiety, deep sadness, or even fear.
  2. Choose Grace. Grace is a Christian word that basically means gift. Offer the gift of understanding when a young child throws a tantrum at the table. Give grace to your spouse when you find them “hiding” in a book, TV series, or a game. Giving grace sometimes means forgiving before it’s been asked for. Don’t forget to give yourself grace. It’s easy to be hard on yourself, but you need grace, too.
  3. Communicate. When you are aware of your own actions and responses you can communicate with your family how you are feeling. You can ask for forgiveness when you’ve spoken in anger because of stress. You can ask how they are doing with this upcoming change. Use open-ended questions that do not allow for responses like “Okay,” “Fine,” or “It was good.” Ask “What are you going to miss the most?” or “How do you want to stay in touch with ______?” Remember though, that HOW you communicate is key – go back to #2 for guidance.

It’s easy to just close your eyes during a rollercoaster ride and not have the full experience. It’s also easy to just try to skip all of the parts of the transition to avoid the painful and hard moments, but it’s important to go through them. It’s important to process it all. Your mind and heart both need it.

So, I challenge you to hold on to that safety harness and force your eyes to stay open through all the dips, dives, and loops this transition rollercoaster brings.

Letting Your TCK Go: Graduation

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It is four weeks until graduation and eight weeks until the flight. It’s not the flight that leads to a busy summer of visiting family and friends (though there will be some of that). Not the flight of our family leaving our host country to start a new adventure. No, it’s the flight where our TCK leaves the nest.

This is the second go around, so part of me believes that I should know what to expect. To be better prepared for the hard good-byes.

Nope. I’ve been busy going down the aisles of denial. You know, those store aisles where you find yourself meandering because they just have a little of everything that is interesting, but you never commit to putting it in your shopping cart?

That is how I’m feeling. We’ve looked at future options. We’ve planned a last trip. I look at all the things that need to be packed or sold because we will return to having ONE home. But I’ve only taken note. I’ve not actually packed anything. I’ve not put up any advertisements for things for sale. And I’ve not written anything because it feels raw.

Because as soon as I do any one of those things – I will have stepped out of that aisle and into reality.

It’s kind of funny because I give talks and help people transition. But I have avoided my own transition. It’s always easier to help others than to deal with our own grief, right?

But this week, starting with this post, I am committing to enter into this reality that soon she will leave. Soon she will pack up her room. Soon we will go to the airport. Soon I will drop her off wherever she will be going and I will leave. Soon I will return without her.

Just writing that my eyes become blurry. But I need you, dear and faithful readers, to keep me accountable. To be present in the moments we have left where we are. To be in the midst of joy and celebration, alongside goodbye and grief.

She’s been RAFTinG.
And I’ve helped her with that.
But what am I going to do?

Work on my DOCK. You can read more about this tool for Stayers over at my business site, Global Crossroads Consulting.

  • But it’s leaning in and being self-aware of your own emotions.
  • It’s listening and acknowledging all the emotions and thoughts your TCK is experiencing.
  • It’s remembering.
  • It’s finding good and healthy ways to stay connected.
  • And it is about finding space to process the grief.

Anyone else finding their family in this kind of a season? How are you coping?

Building the “F” in RAFT

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For many expat families, this is the time of year when decisions are made about leaving the host country for a new posting. Or, in some cases, repatriating to their passport country. In my case, my youngest is in her last year of high school. There are nights when our eyes are glazed over from looking at university applications together, but I am reminded that she also needs to build her RAFT.

What is RAFT? 

RAFT is an acronym created by the late Dave Pollock to help teenagers (and adults) in their transitions. It stands for Reconciliation, Affirmation, Farewell, and Think Destination.  

It does not guarantee that everything will be smooth sailing, but it gives thought to various aspects of moving and allows the person to process. About this time of year, I usually talk with a group of students in their final year of high school, focusing on building the “F” in RAFT, or Farewell. I challenge them to begin their “[insert host country name]’s Bucket List” now.

So, I am challenging you as a parent who is getting a family ready to move, or if your child is about to launch into adulthood, to start your “Bucket List”. 

What Should Go on the “Bucket List”?

If you want to know, please read the Multicultural Kids Blog to read the rest. I was a guest writer for them this week.

Bittersweet

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Image by KathyBarclay from Pixabay

Bittersweet is a plant. It has bright colored berries that would seem sweet and juicy, but are actually toxic and harmful if eaten. Another definition of bittersweet is, “arousing pleasure tinged with sadness or pain” (Lexico). This is what most people are familiar with.

Life is generally like this. A little bit bitter. A little bit sweet. It mixes together and creates the story of our life. Sometimes the bitter seems toxic – and maybe it is, in which case, seek help – but most of the time, the bitter is just a time of growth.

My son just graduated from high school. Bittersweet was the one description I think I heard and felt through this whole experience.

Bitter – My first born completely finished this chapter of his childhood. That book is completed. It is shelved; to be looked at like a scrapbook full of memories. He’ll be leaving and living across an ocean soon; 12-24 hours away.

Sweet – We’re proud of his accomplishments. This new adventure is just beginning and it is exciting. Who will he become? How will he grow?

These two words together capture the feelings of a parent or sibling – and possibly even the graduate, as well.

But, aren’t most transitions “bittersweet”?

Bitter – packing, saying good-bye to places, saying good-bye to people, watching your children hurt

Sweet – maybe living closer to family, new adventure with new foods & culture, recognizing how many good friends you have

As this summer plays out and the time gets closer to board that plane with my oldest, my emotions teeter back and forth from feeling bitter and sad, to sweet and proud and then back to sad.

I want him to go, yet I don’t.

I want him to grow up, yet I want him to need me, to need his father.

I believe this is the dilemma of many parents. We work and endure those early years to train our kids to be responsible mature adults, but when the time comes to send them off we feel that this isn’t the right time. It’s too soon.

As a Christian, I wondered if the word “bittersweet” was in the Bible. I couldn’t find the word, but I found a passage where both words are used. Exodus 15:22-25. This is the point in the story where Moses had led the Israelites out of Egypt and crossed the Red Sea. They were headed into the Desert of Shur, where there was no water.

The people complained because the only water they found was at the place “Marah”, which was bitter.

Moses cried out to God.

God showed him a piece of wood.

Moses threw the piece of wood into the water.

Sweet water. Drinkable water.

It doesn’t say, but I’m guessing the crowds were happy once again – or at least relieved.

This little word search led me to an old story from long ago, in which God used a stick to make bitter water sweet.

My situation isn’t terrible. It’s not life-threatening, but it has some bitterness that is harder to walk through.

It requires trust.

Trusting my son.

Trusting God.

Right now sitting in my home where my son is just in the next room I can honestly say it’s easy to trust.

But,

I know that when “move-in” day comes and I drive away with him standing in the parking lot of his dorm, my eyes will be blurry from the streams of bittersweet tears as I put that trust into action.

How have you seen “bittersweet” play out in your own life?

Letting Go…

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PC geralt via Pixabay

The time of year has come for the expat communities of the world – that time of ebb and flow of suitcases, boxes and RAFT building. At times it may feel more like emotional waves crashing, letting go of a child who graduates can be specially daunting.

As a mom of a son who will soon begin his year of “lasts”, this has been on my heart: how will I let him go with grace and peace?

This week I am guest writing for Multicultural Kid Blogs about how to let our kids go as they prepare to leave “home”. Click here to read more.

The Leaving Series Part 5: Leaving in a Hurry Doesn’t Mean Grieving in a Hurry

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Today’s guest writer comes all the way from Djibouti. Many of you, I’m sure, are familiar with her writing. You may even be familiar with her story, but today she has so graciously opened up and shared even more of that evacuation from Somaliland and what she learned from that traumatic experience. Please welcome, Rachel Pieh Jones.

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In 2003 my family evacuated from Somaliland. I have written about it here (The Big Round Table) and here (Brain Child) but the short story is that we had thirty minutes to pack a small bag and leave and I didn’t go back for over ten years.

We first flew to Ethiopia, where we stayed for three days. Then we flew to Kenya where we stayed for three months. Then we resettled in Djibouti and have now stayed here for eleven years.

In the flurry between that final phone call and when we started the drive to the airport, my husband and I had to close down our house, remember to grab the essentials, keep our toddler twins from becoming frightened, and hold our own broiling emotions and thoughts in check.

There were a few flashes of fear, a few brief tears, even some laughter as I helped the kids wave goodbye to friends they couldn’t see and toys they had left behind. But there was no time to fully feel the impact of what was happening. We had to function, keep moving, don’t think, don’t feel. Just get out.

The emotions struck like an earthquake two days later.

I had to walk away from our family meal at a cafeteria. I climbed rickety stairs in the hotel in Ethiopia, up to our tiny room. I lay down on the bed and cried.

Once the ‘just get out’ had been accomplished and everyone was safe, once we had informed our families and read some newspaper headlines, once we had time to sit down and breathe and no work to rush off to since we were in limbo-land, I started to see flashes of the faces of the people we had left. I started to think about what had happened to cause our flight, the gunshots and dead bodies. The what-ifs.

I kept crying off and on for a few days. When the kids asked about whether or not they would see their friends again, when the kids asked after a book we hadn’t brought along, when my husband asked where we should go and we tried to talk about work prospects.

We flew to Kenya where we received some post-trauma counseling. We made plans to move to Djibouti, on the invitation of a Somali friend who wanted my husband to work with him, teaching. We moved on.

But the aftershocks of grief followed us and occasionally shook the ground, unexpected. I was surprised by this. We hadn’t lived there long, no one I loved had been killed. Just a home, possessions, work, and an idea of what the future would look like. But it was still loss and so I learned to let myself feel it. I was also surprised by the resurgence of it now and again into the following months.

I still thought about people, still wondered what had happened after we left. Who was now taking care of the chickens in our yard? Who would keep the dirt watered so the neighbor’s goats could come and munch weeds? Who would hire our guard so he could continue to provide for his family? And I thought about all that we hadn’t finished – my husband hadn’t finished the semester at the University. What about his students?

Eventually the sadness faded, as we stepped into the new place and new life, and after a long time, as I began to feel at home in Djibouti, I came to think of our village in Somaliland with nostalgia. Sadness had somehow transformed into a tender affection. Gratitude even, for the privilege we had been given of a few short months living there. I don’t think that is what happens with all forms of grief, not even close. This is one of the biggest things I have learned about loss. It comes in all shapes, sizes, and time frames and so does the grief that follows. Leaving in a hurry doesn’t mean grieving in a hurry. And so enters grace. Grace on ourselves and on others to allow each other to uniquely grieve.

Thanks Rachel for sharing with us today. I really appreciate your willingness to share your grief with us. I love your last few sentences, which is why I bolded them. Such wisdom.

If you still would like to share your leaving story with us, you can contact me at mdmaurer135{at}gmail{dot}com. I will be closing the series in a few weeks unless I hear from more writers. I’ve truly enjoyed reading and gleaning insights from you all.

Here are links to the other stories if you didn’t get a chance to read them: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, and Part 4

djiboutijonesRachel Pieh Jones lives in Djibouti with her husband and three children. She has written for the New York Times, the Christian Science Monitor, FamilyFun, Babble, the Big Roundtable, and Running Times. Visit her at: Djibouti Jones, her Facebook page or on Twitter @rachelpiehjones

The Leaving Series Part 4: Leaving the African “Nest”

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bloemkleinprofielToday’s Leaving Story comes from a fellow blogger I started following years ago. I was drawn to Janneke’s blog, DrieCulturen, because I felt a connection with her writing. She was one of the few European writers sharing their TCK stories – it helped me understand my husband a bit more. Today, Janneke’s shares her story along with some insightful tips to help your university-bound TCK. 

May 1989. For most people it was a normal day in mundane life. This was not so for everyone. In the suburbs of Bulawayo, Zimbabwe, Africa there a 19 year old young girl was frantically trying to fit the last things into her bags. Between the last-minute packing were the last minute goodbyes. Very soon the car was leaving for the airport so there was little time to spare. Her viola would be part of her hand luggage; her tennis racket was strapped with broad tape onto the viola so that it would accompany her, too. Her parents, brothers and sister would all see her off at the airport. Of course there was a last family photo in front of the map of Zimbabwe. This was a historical moment.

Zimbabwe vertrek 1989

The 19 year old was leaving home. She was leaving “the nest”, spreading her wings and flying out into the unknown! She was the firstborn so she was the one to pave the way for her siblings. So with her head up, and gathering all her earthly belongings, she was going to board the aeroplane. Walking on the pavement heading to the plane the strap of her bag broke, obviously her bag was not designed for the amounts of luggage she had piled into it. Was this how the rest of her journey would go? In front of all the farewell sayers she was once again grabbing her belongings together and trying to make it to the plane in time. One last quick wave and she was out of sight. Finding her seat was easy, she was a routine traveller. The engines started, and then it was time for take-off. One last glimpse of the ones she loved, of the country she loved, of everything that was so well known to her. Before she could stop it there were tears streaming over her face. Not just a few tears, it seemed like a dam wall had broken and there were floods of tears. Something like the Victoria waterfalls in the rainy season. The tears were uncontrollable.

The past week had been busy and filled with goodbyes. There had even been a goodbye party, with school friends and friends from the church youth group. They had had a lot of fun, there had been lots of laughter but there had also been the painful goodbyes.

This was the country where her family had lived the past 6 years. Here she had cycled to school daily, she passed her driving test, she had received her first kiss, her first dance, her first date, she had turned eighteen, been a school prefect and she had written her “O” and “A” level GCSE school exams. This was the continent where she was born. Here she had learnt to walk, run, play, and laugh.

 In Africa she knew she wasn’t African and she thought it was because she was Dutch. Now, in Holland she found out that she is not really like the Dutch people either. Where was home? She remembered that her younger sister had asked that questions years ago. Her sister decided that “home” was where her bed was!

Of course I am the person in this story. I am the one that was born abroad. I am the one who was called “the foreigner” at secondary school. I am the one that did not quite fit in. I am the “hidden immigrant”.

Looking so Dutch but not knowing how to weigh the fruit and vegetables in the supermarket. I remember observing the people around me, watching to see how others did it. How do you use the buses and the trains? Were the supermarkets open on public holidays or not? Some times I asked questions, but people would look at me and you could hear them thinking “how can she be so ignorant?” Which brand margarine should I buy? There were just too many choices to make. Even more difficult was: what clothes do you wear and what must you buy? I had been used to wearing school uniforms all my life. As a young child my mother always tailored the dresses, she even did the hairdressing.

Looking back, I think I was not fully prepared for this flight out of the nest. It turned out that I made a crash landing but somehow I survived. I still miss the warmth of the African sun. My heart yearns. My heart longs. I miss the continent of my first kiss.

Tips:

  1. Prepare your kids for their transition to university.
  2. Talk lots about the emotions, expectations and practical things.
  3. Read the book “A Global Nomad’s guide to university transition” by Tina Quick and give your young adult a copy.
  4. If possible transition with your child or make sure there are family and friends near their university, where they can easily visit.
  5. Make sure they have heard the term “third culture kid”, something I did not know.
  6. Choose a college or university that is internationally minded, where there are more TCKs or international students, chances are your TCK will feel more at home in this environment.

Thanks, Janneke for sharing your story with us! If you’d like to read other stories about leaving please click on the links: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3.

Remember, if you’d like to share your own story, there is still time to get them in. Click here for details.

eigen foto Janneke Muyselaar-Jellema is an adult third culture kid, M.D., and blogger @DrieCulturen “all about kids growing up in other cultures”. You can also find out more about her story as a guest writer for Rachel Pieh Jones here.

 

 

 

The Leaving Series – Part 1: Taking Time to Process

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Today I start off the series with my own leaving story. If you’d like to share your story email me an original story with some pictures at mdmaurer135{at}gmail{dot}com.

Though I have moved quite a bit this one was the hardest for me…

It is said that the process of moving starts six months before you actually take your mountain of luggage to the airport to leave behind family or friends that have become extended family. For me, those six months were full of anticipation, grief, craziness, and mixed with a sprinkling of peace. I’ve been in a place now for a few years where I can share the story without tears.

It was a move that I did NOT want to make.

It was a place with some major history for me  – engagement, marriage, and children.

It was a move of LOST dreams and dear friends that had become family.

It was our move from mainland China to Taiwan*.

In those last six months we got our match for the adoption and a 13-month old beautiful girl joined our family – four months BEFORE we left.20150416_110521

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“I’m a US citizen now!”

During this time of building RAFTs, saying good-byes, and deciding what to ship to Taiwan we took important trips to Guanzhou and Hawaii for Mei Mei’s US citizenship, neither trip restful. It was a crazy roller coaster ride in my life. I was jerked left, then right, and spinning upside down in speeds that I could not control. I wanted it to slow down. I wanted to relish every last minute in the place I had come to love dearly. I needed it to slow down – to process what was going on.

 

 

 

My wise husband planned a time for our family…

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After we said our teary good-byes to two very special ladies we boarded a plane to Hong Kong for a one week vacation on Cheung Chau Island which was exactly what my broken heart needed – a place to slow down and let my heart start to catch up with my mind. No more packing, no more good-byes, just rest.

From there we traveled to Taiwan to drop off some bags and to begin the process of our resident visas, then on to the US to visit family. During our time in the US, we were sent to a pre-field orientation by our new school. I know it sounds ridiculous that we’d been on the field for about ten years and going to a pre-field orientation, but I’m so glad we did. It was another time of processing for me. While my children were being cared for in the children’s program and my husband was attending meetings to help him with work related issues, I attended sessions for the trailing spouse. I cried some ugly tears during those sessions. My heart was allowed time to grieve.

I can’t say that there were no more tears after we arrived and settled in our new home. There were more, but what I can say is that the time we spent away reflecting and grieving were important, nay vital, for me.

If you are in the process of packing to move, can I suggest that after you leave and before you get to the new home that you plan a retreat to reflect on all that you have just gone through. To let your heart catch a breath, to rest, to grieve, to begin to dream of the next place. It’s not just good for you, but would be good for your kids as well.

Take time to say good-bye well.

Take time to remember those you left.

Take time to reflect on those last few whirlwind days.

Take time to grieve – it’s part of the process. Don’t fight it, just go along with it knowing it will get better with time. (I know, so cliche to say, but it’s true!)

And if possible, take time to go away to do the above. It is good for the mind to have a bit of a break BEFORE entering the new.

*Please note, that I’m not saying Taiwan is or is not its own country – that is too political and complicated. What I am saying is that I moved from a place governed by Communism to a place that is not. Also, each place is culturally different due to their history. 

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Arrived in Taiwan with a double stroller – HA!